Christmas Gifts
by DukeBrymin
Summary: What do you get the love of your life when they already have almost everything they ever wanted?
1. Ships Passing

**Christmas Gifts, Chapter 1, Ships Passing**

**Title: **Christmas Gifts, Chapter 1, Ships Passing  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Characters/pairings:** Harry/Ginny  
**Summary:** What do you get the love of your life when they already have almost everything they ever wanted?  
**Author's Notes:** Written for the "Gift of the Magi, Harry Potter-style" challenge in LiveJournal's chest_monsters community. I didn't win anything, but I had fun writing it.

ooooooooooo

"Ginny!" Harry called as soon as he Apparated into their living room. The silence was deafening. "Ginny!" he called again, hoping that she was just asleep, or perhaps caught up in a novel, or, his personal favorite, in a hot, steamy shower, slowly lathering up the soap and preparing to clean herself.

Still no answer. Praying that one of his suppositions was true, he quickly waved his hand towards the lights, which turned on, climbed the stairs, and hurried down the hallway. The study was empty, as was their large bed. His hopes fell as he systematically didn't find any traces of his wife. Throwing open the door to their bathroom, only to find it correspondingly dark and cold, his face settled into its now habitual frown.

He sighed deeply, and turned around to shuffle back down towards the kitchen, hoping that there was something fast and easy to eat in the icebox. The usual note on the table caught his eye.

_Dear Harry,__  
__I'm so sorry I can't be there this evening--Gwenog called an emergency practice, and I don't know when I'll be back. I left some Chinese take-out for you, I didn't have time to make dinner either.__  
__  
__Please take care of yourself--I know this isn't the best time for me to be away, and I wish I could be there with you. Don't sit around and brood, Potter--you hear me? Go visit Ron and Hermione, or go to the Burrow if you want. I just don't want to think of you being home alone on Halloween.__  
__  
__I love you, my dearest Harry, I'll be thinking of you today, even though it'll throw off my game, and I'll come home as soon as I can. Leave me a note if you go out, so I can find you quickly.__  
__  
__Always yours,__  
__  
__Ginny Potter (I never get tired of writing that. . .)_

Ginny's note sparked a grin on Harry's face, reminding him of the fiery spirit that he had fallen in love with so long ago. But that faded as he once again faced the prospect of an empty house, and reheated take-away.

_Maybe I'll go to the Burrow_, he pondered. There, at least, he'd get a wonderful hot meal, and he could lose himself in the chaos and love that always seemed to permeate the ramshackle home. Turning over Ginny's note, he quickly wrote:

_Darling Ginny,__  
__I hope practice went well, and you didn't get into too much trouble for thinking of me when you should have been thinking of the Quaffle. I'd apologize, but I like the fact that I can distract you at a distance. Do I need to talk to Gwenog about these unscheduled practices? It seems you've been away an awful lot lately. . .__  
__  
__Thanks for your note, it made me smile, and thanks for the suggestions--it's nice to know that you're taking care of me, even when you're not around.__  
__  
__I decided to go to the Burrow, since lemon chicken didn't sound very good (but thanks for leaving me some!). Your mum will feed me, and maybe I can see Tory. Hey, do you think I should start calling her Vicky, just to bug Ron?__  
__  
__Anyway, I should be there, and if not, I'll tell your mum where I went.__  
__  
__Be careful, and I look forward to seeing you, sweaty and dirty from your practice. Perhaps I can help clean you up? *wink*wink*__  
__  
__Always yours,__  
__  
__Harry Weasley (I wouldn't have minded taking your name, you know)__  
_

oooooooooo

The subdued *pop* of Harry Apparating into the Burrow's back yard went completely unnoticed by the family. Harry smiled as he caught someone's voice raised high in protest, to be drowned out by another voice, obviously parental, scolding. It had taken awhile for Harry to become completely comfortable with the dynamics of living with the Weasleys--at first it had been too reminiscent of the Dursleys and their manner of treating him. Hearing Mrs. Weasley yelling at the twins had caused him no end of stress. But after a week of living with them after having been rescued in the flying Ford Anglia, he had become not _used_ to it, per se, but at least he didn't jump each time it happened.

By the time summer was over, he had come to the startling conclusion that a family could yell, and fight, and hex, and still love each other deeply. And he found himself oddly desirous to be on the receiving end of Mrs. Weasley's diatribes.

The summer before fourth year had shown him even more of the love that existed in the Burrow, and he found himself even more envious of the Weasley children, wishing that he had been able to grow up with a mother that truly cared about her children. And the desire to make sure that his children, should he ever have any, were raised in such an atmosphere, albeit with slightly less yelling, blossomed deeply in his heart.

It was the summer before fifth year when it finally happened. Ginny had coaxed Harry into planting spiders in Ron's sock drawer, and the resulting chaos had landed squarely on their collective heads. Harry found himself, for the first time, the target of a full-blown Molly Weasley scolding.

Ginny stoically endured the various and sundry pleas to obscure deities, exhortations to shape up, and threats of bodily harm. Harry, on the other hand, couldn't help his smile. It grew, and grew, and grew, as Molly vented her ire on the two teens. Finally Molly had noticed.

"--and if I ever catch you--Just what do you think is so funny, young man?" she demanded, when she saw the grin on Harry's face.

"Nothing, Mrs. Weasley, honestly." Ginny looked over at Harry, blinked, then quickly turned her face to the floor to hide the smile on her own face.

"Then why are you smiling? This is _not_ a laughing matter! Ron could be scarred for life--and it took forever to heal those scrapes he got from falling down the stairs!"

Ginny, caught off guard, snorted, then tried, unsuccessfully, to turn it into a cough. Molly wasn't fooled, and turned to excoriate her daughter for laughing too, but Harry intervened.

"Honestly, Mrs. Weasley. I wasn't laughing. I was just thinking how nice it is that you treat me just like one of your children. No-one's ever cared about me like that. Aunt Petunia's yelled at me all my life, but when _you _do it, I know you won't make me go without eating. It's just. . . it's just nice to be able to pretend I have a real family."

Harry couldn't have chosen anything that would melt Molly's heart better. Instantly her anger disappeared, to be replaced by tender warmth and a wish that Harry really _were_ hers to take care of. Her eyes shone, and she wrapped her arms around the black-haired boy.

"Oh, Harry. You've always been one of ours, dear. Of course I care--Arthur and I love you just as much as we love any of our other children. And I just hope that. . ." she very obviously changed what she was going to say, ". . . that one day you'll feel like you can call us Mum and Dad."

Harry hugged Mrs. Weasley back, and they just stood there; Harry basking in the glow of a mother's love, and Molly enjoying hugging a teen-age boy who wasn't trying to rush off.

Ginny had told him later that she had watched, agog, as Harry managed to completely defuse a full-on Molly Weasley rant, and turn it into a rather touching family bonding moment. Just for a moment, she had allowed her feelings for Harry to suffuse her, and she had made a quiet vow to herself that, if she ever had the opportunity, she'd make sure that Harry had a family, and that he _knew_ beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved.

oooooooooo

Shaking off his memories of the past, Harry stepped quickly to the back door, and walked in. The meal was, apparently, just finishing up, as plates were just about empty, and there were already some seats vacant. Molly saw him first, and jumped to her feet.

"Harry! It's so good to see you! Have you eaten? Please, sit down and I'll dish you up something. Is lamb stew all right? I could make you up something--"

Harry interrupted, laughing. "That's just fine, Mum. I like everything you've ever given me--"

"Especially Ginny!" interrupted Ron, with a triumphant smirk.

"Honestly, Ron," started Hermione, and Harry rolled his eyes, too used to their mode of interaction to pay much mind to it, until Hermione continued, "Molly didn't _give_ Ginny to Harry, he had to _work_ for her!"

Harry quickly shot Hermione a look, but she just sat there, looking back at him, the picture of innocence. . . at least until Ron snickered. Then the whole room broke into laughter, and Harry just shook his head, happy that he'd been able to join such a warm and happy family.

He took a seat at the table, greeted Arthur and Bill, and started in on the delicious meal.

"So, Harry, what brings you over this evening?" Arthur asked him. "Don't you and Ginny usually get a hotel room and hole up for the night?"

Ron stood up abruptly from the table, pink-faced. "Um, I'm just going to go check on the kids, okay?"

Hermione slapped him on the arm. "Fine, run off, you big baby--they've been married for five years, you'd think you'd be used to it by now."

Ron just gathered his shards of dignity around him and stalked off to the front room. Hermione watched him go, with a fond look of exasperation on her face, then turned back to Harry.

"Yes, Harry, what happened? Did Ginny have to--"

"Work," Harry said. "Gwenog called an emergency practice on them. I imagine it has to do with that last-minute change-up in the schedule."

Hermione's face fell. "Oh, but that really rots, doesn't it? You and Ginny haven't missed a Halloween together for, well, since seventh year!"

"I know, Hermione--trust me, I've already thought all about it. But, it's not like she can plan for emergencies, can she?"

Arthur and Bill were watching this conversation, and Bill took the opportunity to stir the cauldron. "So, I guess she'll have some making-up to do when she gets back, won't she?" he asked, with a suggestive leer.

Harry swallowed his mouthful of stew and tried to grin back, but didn't succeed very well. "No, not really. I mean, I missed being home with her on her birthday this year, remember? So I really don't have a leg to stand on when it comes to tonight." He shrugged fatalistically, and went back to his food, missing the significant glances that Bill, Arthur, and Hermione exchanged.

Molly bustled over at that point. "I don't know why she has to do whatever Gwenog says. I mean, she's a starting Chaser, for Merlin's sake, she should be able to have more say in when she plays and when she doesn't! Having to miss Halloween with Harry is just criminal--"

"Mum!" Harry interrupted. "It's okay! I mean, sure, it's not the best timing, but I'll be all right. And, after all, she suggested I come over this evening, and I'm sure I'll have a good time here. I mean, unless you all are going somewhere. . ." He trailed off slowly, hoping against hope that his sudden appearance hadn't thrown a spanner into their plans.

The look on Molly's face gave her away, but she made a valiant effort. "Oh, um, no--well, I mean, some of us are going out with the girls--Victoire and Rose have been looking forward to Halloween for the longest time, after all. And Hugo looks absolutely darling dressed as a garden gnome. Oh, and Dominique is just the most adorable snap-dragon. . . But we weren't _all_ planning on going, _were_ we, Arthur?"

Arthur blanched, but dutifully played along. "No, of course not. I was going to stay home this evening--it _is_ getting a mite cold, and I'm not getting any younger. So, I thought I'd just miss it this year."

Harry smiled sadly. Trust his adopted family to try so hard to keep from disappointing him. He knew as well as anyone that Arthur loved taking his grandchildren anywhere, and he no more would choose to miss this evening's festivities than he'd choose to throw away his rubber ducky.

"No, that's okay. If the girls have a party or something, then you all go ahead. Maybe I'll just sit here by your fire and read, or something. I'll be okay here." He ducked his head again to take another bite of his food, and, yet again, missed the looks that flickered around the room.

Apparently Hermione had been elected to broach the subject, for she cleared her throat. "Um, Harry? You could always come with us. . . I'm sure Rose and Tory would love to have their Uncle Harry come along, and you know how much Dominique likes to be held by you. . . And we'd sure love to have you, too. You've been working so much lately that we haven't had a lot of time to spend together."

Harry looked up, surprised. It had been a long time since he'd thought about actually doing something Halloween-y on the anniversary of his parents' murder, but the idea took root. Maybe it was time to try to find some good in the holiday. It helped that he remembered his note to Ginny. His smile became somewhat more devilish, and he nodded. "Okay, I'll come with you. We need to make sure we leave a note for Ginny, so if she shows up, she won't worry."

The subject settled, Harry went back to eating and chatting lightly with Bill. Arthur, Molly, and Hermione all looked rather pensive though, and decided that they needed to keep an eye on Harry's and Ginny's relationship. They weren't _worried_, necessarily, but there were some disturbing trends developing in the relationship between the Head of the Aurors, and the Harpies' Top Chaser.


	2. Iceberg Warning

**Christmas Gifts, Chapter 2, Iceberg Warning**

**Author's Notes:** Written for the "Gift of the Magi, Harry Potter-style" challenge in LiveJournal's chest_monsters community. I didn't win anything, but I had fun writing it.

I'd love to have some constructive criticism on this if you have the time. If not, then at least let me know if you like it.

oooooooooo

_My dearest Ginny-love,__  
__I'm so sorry to do this to you, I know you were looking forward to the dinner this evening. I mean, being proclaimed The Best Young Chaser five years running is absolutely fabulous. And I certainly don't like the idea of missing out on seeing you looking so beautiful. Something inside me growls at the thought of you being there where all the guys can stare at you, and not having me there with you to remind them whom you really belong to. I know you don't need my protection, you've certainly proved that over the years, but I can't help thinking that it's my duty as your husband to be at your side and make sure that you're not bothered by other less-fortunate men, who see you and think they might have a chance.__  
__  
__Please know that if there were any way I could get out of this stupid meeting, I would take it. I'm half-way tempted to resign just so I can be there tonight with you.__  
__  
__I'll be home as soon as I can, and if the gods should smile on me and the meeting should end early, I'll meet you at the dinner.__  
__  
__I promise I won't be any later than midnight, even if I have to walk out in the middle of the Minister's never-ending list of ideas. Will you wait up for me? I don't want to miss seeing you in your gown, and then being able to take you out of it, slowly, worshiping your beautiful body, inch-by-inch as I do so. I won't go in to work tomorrow, so you have me for the whole night and day, if you want.__  
__  
__I hope that Hermione can go with you--I know she's not much for Quidditch, but I also know she'll support you in this.__  
__  
__I love you, my dearest darling,__  
__  
__Wishing I were with you,__  
__  
__Your Harry_

To say that Ginny Potter was not happy would be quite the understatement.

"Merlin, Circe, and Morgana! That stupid Minister! Who does he think he is, making my husband work tonight? I ought to fill him with . . . slugs and bat-bogeys and centaur droppings and. . . glue him to Umbridge and paint his skin orange and tattoo _I will not make Harry Potter work so much_ on his forehead!"

Hermione chose that moment to Apparate into the Potters' living room, which was just about the closest she'd ever come to dying. As it was, she was Petrified, bound, and Banished to the corner before she had time to think.

"Oh, Merlin! Hermione, I'm so sorry—here, let me release you. . ."

After a couple of Finite Incantatems, Hermione rubbed her bum, which, despite the Petrification, had still sustained a bruise from the corner-Banishment, then wrapped her arms around the younger girl, who promptly burst into tears.

Hermione held her and whispered quieting nothings to her. "Ginny, Ginny, it's okay, we'll fix it, whatever it is. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. . ." The problem was that everything she said made Ginny cry harder, until finally she gave up and just held the red-head.

Eventually, Ginny pulled back, and sniffed mightily.

"Hermione, has anyone ever told you you're crap at comforting people?"

Hermione flushed, started to bluster, then laughed quietly. "Well, since I don't know what happened, it's really hard to think of what to say to you. Rose and Hugo don't seem to really listen to what I say, so it doesn't matter with them. Um, do you . . . do you want to talk about it?"

Ginny shook her head, and just handed the note over to her best friend. Hermione took it and started to read. About half-way through, Ginny heard a small squeak and looked over to see a look of longing, buried in the fiercest blush Ginny'd seen in a long time, on the other girl's face.

Hermione finished reading, and looked up to see Ginny smirking at her. "I guess it didn't embarrass you enough to make you stop reading, huh?"

Hermione shook her head and giggled. "No, I've seen worse over the years I've known you—remember that time Ronald and I Flooed in without calling first? And you and Harry were. . . celebrating his promotion, on the couch?"

It was Ginny's turn to blush and giggle, but she was grateful for the distraction, and the reminder of the fun that she and her husband could have together.

"I don't think I've ever seen Ron so aghast. How long did it take him to stop washing his eyes out?"

Hermione smiled. "Well, he complained about it for about a week after that, but it _did_ inspire him to be more affectionate—I think he thought we were in competition with you two."

The girls shared a laugh, but Ginny quieted down very quickly. Hermione noticed the change in mood, and scooted over to put an arm around her friend. "Merlin, Ginny. I'm so sorry Harry can't be there tonight. Isn't there anything he can do about it?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, being Head of the Aurors means he reports directly to the Minister, and has to come whenever he's called. I just wish the Minister would grow a spine, or something, and not have to depend on Harry so much. I mean, this past year has been horrible!"

Hermione shook her head in commiseration. "You're right. I wasn't very pleased when Ronald decided to forgo the Aurors so he could work with George, but watching Harry being run ragged makes me think that maybe Ronald chose the better path."

Ginny sniggered. "Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?" She sobered quickly. "And the real pity of it all is that I know how much Harry was looking forward to this. I mean, yeah, I want him there too, but he was so proud of me—he really wanted to be there to see me get the award, and show his support. And now, because of some probably-imagined need, he has to miss out."

"Ginny, you sound almost as if it's more important for _him_ than for _you_. Aren't you mad that he can't come?"

"Of course, but it's not his fault. And after all, I had to play that stupid exhibition game against Bulgaria the same day he was sworn in as Head of the Aurors—I certainly can't get mad at him for missing this. I just wish. . ." she trailed off.

"You just wish. . . ?"

"I just wish we had more time together. I mean, if you look back over the past couple years, even using your calendaring charm, we barely average one or two days together a month. Merlin's sake! I missed his birthday three years running! And I don't remember the last time we were able to attend a Weasley Family Dinner together. And now this—the Minister is coming to depend more and more on Harry, and I don't know that there's any end in sight!" And, to Ginny's shame, she burst into tears again.

Hermione patted her on the back, consciously refraining from trying to whisper any words of comfort, mindful of her impressive lack of success previously, and pondered the potential can of worms that she was about to open up.

"Um, Ginny? Can I ask you a question?"

The hesitant timbre of Hermione's voice was so uncharacteristic that Ginny stopped weeping and looked at her friend. "Hermione? What's the matter?"

"Um, well, I was just, um wondering. Well, really, a couple of us were a little worried, and. . . oh, I don't know how to say this. . ." She twisted her hands together in her lap.

"Hermione, you're worrying me. What's the matter?" Ginny was truly concerned now. She hadn't seen Hermione this nervous since she had had to respond to Ron's proposal.

"Well, it's just that, well, we never see you and Harry together anymore, and each time we see one of you there's. . . there's some excuse about where the other is. Are you. . . are you two having. . . you know. . . _problems_?"

There, she had said it. She cursed the day she had agreed to Ronald's, Bill's, Molly's and Arthur's entreaties to bring up what they saw as possible troubles in the marriage. Judging by Ginny's reactions, the Weasley Family Council had been completely wrong, and she had quite a lot of damage control to perform, as soon as possible.

The younger girl was in the midst of swelling up in righteous indignation, and Hermione saw the tell-tale movement of her hand towards where she normally kept her wand. Blessedly, Ginny had laid her wand down on the coffee table, so she didn't have to worry about anything besides wandless magic, although that, in and of itself, wasn't too comforting.

"How dare you!?" Ginny demanded. "No! Of course we're not! I love Harry, and he loves me! Merlin, Hermione! He _died_ for me! And then, when he had the chance to stay with his parents, and Sirius, and not have to fight anymore, he _came back for me_! Do you know how that makes me feel? I _know_ Harry loves me! And can't you tell how much I love him? I've loved him since I was ten years old, and I've never stopped! He was, is, and always will be the only one for me! And I will spend the rest of my life trying to show him that! Those stupid Dursleys did a lot of damage—I promised myself that I would spend the rest of my life caring for him and making sure he knew he was loved." Ginny's tirade ran down then, and tears appeared in her eyes again. "It's just so hard to do when we never see each other for more than a night here and there. . ."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her best friend again, and let her cry on her shoulder. "There, there," she whispered quietly, patting her on the back again, hoping that this would be an acceptably soothing thing to say.

Eventually Ginny's sobs turned into hiccoughs, and she backed away from Hermione's embrace, sneaking in a quick wipe of her eyes on Hermione's blouse as she did so.

"Well, Hermione, now that I've cried all over you, it's time for the important question."

"Yes, Ginny, I'll be happy to go to the Quidditch banquet with you."

Ginny smiled, then laughed a bit, making Hermione happy to see the mood change. "No, silly. The really important question. Or perhaps there are two. . ."

Hermione just looked puzzled. "Okay, I give up. What are the two important questions, if it's not whether I'll spend an evening being bored by Quidditch talk and hexing men for coming on to you?"

Ginny giggled, then schooled her features. "Well, the first one is whether you're going to let my prat brother. . . what was it? Oh yes, _take you out of your dress, worshiping your body, inch-by-inch as he does so._"

Ginny was rewarded by the return of Hermione's spectacular blush, which made the red-head laugh even more. Hermione looked at her in disgust, secretly glad that Ginny was still able to laugh, joke, and even poke fun at her, in spite of the drama of the past hour.

"Well, Miss Weasley--"

"Unh-uh—that's Mrs. Potter, thank you very much!"

"Fine—Mrs. Head of the Aurors, Boy-Who-Lived, Man-Who-Won, Most Eligible Bachelor, and All-Around Sexiest Man Ever, that all depends on whether Ronald is awake when I get back. And whether I tell him what I'm planning on wearing underneath my gown. . . "

Ginny giggled, remembering their joint shopping trip to Gregory's of Holyhead, then blanched as she realized they were talking about her brother.

"Okay, enough of that. I really don't like to imagine that—he's my brother, remember? I've already been scarred enough by seeing him when I shouldn't." She shook her head quickly, trying to erase the mental image.

"Fine," Hermione pouted. "Then you can tell me what the second oh-so-important question is."

Ginny laughed. "Oh yes. That one. Well, I was just wondering how upset Ron is getting with Harry calling Victoire _Vicky_ when he's around. . ."

Both girls dissolved into laughter, leaning on each other, grateful for the bond that they shared, and grateful for the happiness that they were able to find together, as sisters, and as best friends.


	3. Can We Steer This Thing?

**Christmas Gifts, Chapter 3, Can We Steer This Thing?**

**Author's Notes:** Written for the "Gift of the Magi, Harry Potter-style" challenge in LiveJournal's chest_monsters community. I didn't win anything, but I had fun writing it.

I'd love to have some constructive criticism on this if you have the time. If not, then at least let me know if you like it.

oooooooooo

Harry stepped back and surveyed his work. It looked pretty good, even if he did say so himself. After all, it was pretty easy to make sure everything was in its correct place when you had magic to help levitate the garlands, and sticking charms for the lights, and pretty decent Conjuration skills, in spite of Hermione's snide comments to the contrary.

And after five years of decorating for Christmas, he figured that he had a pretty good handle on how things went. Of course, there was always that special spark that Ginny added that was missing tonight, but there wasn't much he could do about that.

He had been hoping all day that tonight they'd finally be able to do the Christmas decorations. They had never had to leave it so long before—three days before Christmas almost didn't seem worth it. But he couldn't imagine Christmas now without a tree, and tinsel, and holly, and all the other trappings, so he had decided that, no matter what, he'd see it done tonight.

By himself, as it turned out. Ginny's note was, unfortunately, not too unexpected. It seemed that more and more of their conversations were by note, or Floo call, or in person, sleepily, as they rested after making love in the rare moments they were together.

_My most precious Harry,_

_I'm so sorry that I won't be home when you get there. Gwenog needed to meet with me tonight, and it's not something I can get out of. I'm desperately hoping for a short, happy meeting, but you know how they've been lately, so it might be really late before I can leave._

_I know we need to decorate for Christmas—I hope to be home in time for that. If not, then I suppose you can start and I'll finish when I get there. Hmmm, decorating for Christmas—now my mind is filled with pictures of you, under the tree, wrapped in a red ribbon, with strategically-placed tinsel. Perhaps some mistletoe placed in some obvious (and less-obvious) locations. . . Is it getting hot in here? Or is it just me?_

_Anyway, I promise, promise, promise, that, no matter what happens, we'll have Christmas Eve and all of Christmas Day together. If Gwenog tries to call a practice, or a meeting, or anything, then I guarantee that there will be fourteen Harpies demonstrating why the Harpy is such a feared creature._

_Remember that I love you, and you're the most important thing in my world._

_Always and forever your Christmas angel,_

_Ginny Potter (and proud of it)_

Harry couldn't deny that he'd rather have her here helping, but the suggestions she'd given him were enough to keep him warm, and keep his head filled with thoughts of Mrs. Claus outfits, and candycanes, and opening gift-wrapped items while he did his best to fill their home with holiday cheer.

The last year had been hard, he knew. Being Head of the Aurors had been something like the realization of a dream, but it had certainly come at a price. He missed his Ginny—he missed her laughter and bright eyes, and he missed talking with her for more than just minutes stolen between appointments and games and other engagements. Hopefully this Christmas could mark a change in their lives; maybe they could do more than just snatch happiness from their hectic schedules. He certainly hadn't planned on a married life that consisted of leaving notes (as exciting as they were) for each other.

But Ginny's note had promised Christmas Eve and Christmas Day together, and that was definitely something he was thrilled about. He had thought long and hard about what he wanted to give Ginny, and had come up with what he thought was the perfect gift.

While price was really no object, and he knew Ginny wouldn't care how much he spent, this was definitely the highest-priced present he'd ever chosen for her. He just hoped she'd like it, and accept it in the spirit in which he was giving it to her.

Drawn out of his reverie by the sound of the Floo activating, he turned excitedly towards the fireplace. After all, there weren't that many people who could Floo into their house, and he hoped that it was Ginny, coming home early from the Gwenog-meeting.

To his mixed disappointment and delight, it was Molly Weasley.

"Mum! What brings you over tonight? Don't you have holiday things to be doing?" Harry couldn't picture the Burrow in the week before Christmas without Molly perpetually in the kitchen, baking holiday treats and presiding over the grandchildren making paper chains and snowflakes and messes.

"What? I can't come visit my favorite black-haired son?" Molly's stern tone was belied by the twinkle in her eyes.

"Of course you can, Mum. It's just that you're usually so busy. . . Please, sit down! I'm happy to have you, you just surprised me." Harry was flustered by the visit, but undeniably pleased to see his second-favorite female.

"Thanks, Harry, I didn't think you'd mind too much. But, I don't have time to sit down—I came to get you. Ginny left me a note saying that she probably wasn't going to be home until late, so I came to drag you back with me. You shouldn't be home alone tonight, and we have quite the party happening at the Burrow. So, get what you need, and let's go. Angelina dragged George over, and Percy and Audrey came over with little Molly. Dominique and Hugo are starting to play together--it's so adorable! And of course Vicky and Rose are just dying to see their Uncle Harry."

Harry shot Molly a disbelieving look, and Molly started giggling. "Oh, Harry. You should see Ronald every time someone calls her _Vicky_! He just turns white and grimaces, like he's eaten a bad kipper. And unfortunately for him, Victoire has decided that she likes _Vicky _much more than _Tory_, so that's what Bill and Fleur are calling her now. Oh, Harry, thank you—that's the most fun we've had with names since we had to magic Fred's and George's names onto the bottoms of their feet so they could tell themselves apart!"

Harry smiled at the thought of Fred, happy that his family was able to remember the happy moments the missing twin had brought into their lives. Then he chuckled, envisioning the look on Ron's face at hearing _Vicky_ all the time.

"Okay, Mum, just let me grab a jumper and my scarf, and we can head on over. I certainly don't want to disappoint my nieces and nephew."

He ran off to the bedroom, and returned almost before Molly had had time to inspect the decorations.

"You've done a good job with the decorating this year, you two. But, and don't get mad at me for saying this, it kind of. . . lacks something."

Harry's smiled faded a bit. "Yeah, I had to do it all myself—Ginny's the one that can make it really sparkle, but she had that meeting tonight, and it couldn't wait any longer. I hope that maybe tomorrow she can add her special touch. It just wouldn't be the same without her input. I remember last year. . . Last year she replaced all the white lights with little glowing ferrets—I don't know where she got them, maybe she made them. But every time we looked at the tree, I could just see Malfoy bouncing up and down in the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts. Made it kind of hard to be serious about the Christmas Story, let me tell you. Of course, it kind of put a dampener on our Christmas Eve. . ." Harry trailed off as he realized exactly what he was saying, and whom he was saying it to.

"Why's that, Harry?" Molly asked, with a glint in her eye that indicated that perhaps she knew where this story was going.

"Um, well. . ." Harry blushed, scratched the back of his neck, and coughed. "You see, Gin and I like to celebrate Christmas Eve by, um, spending some time together by the tree. And the idea of Malfoy watching kind of, um, inhibited our abilities. . ."

Molly chuckled to herself as she wondered whether she'd ever seen Harry so red. "Ah, I see. Well, I can certainly imagine that—No! I mean, imagine that the idea of Draco Malfoy there would be a downer. So," she said, changing the subject emphatically, "go ahead and leave a note for your sweetheart, and we'll be on our way."

Harry was glad to be able to turn his red face away from his mother-in-law, and grabbed for a sheet of parchment and a quill.

_My Darling Christmas Angel,_

_As you can see, I did most of the decorating, with the exception of your special touches, and your requested gift-wrapped present under the tree._

_Your mum came over and is dragging me back to the Burrow, so if you get home and I'm not here, that's where I'll be—probably having to listen to Ron complain about Vicky for hours on end. Maybe we shouldn't have started that. . . Nah—it's good for him._

_I hope your meeting went well, and I'm very much looking forward to Christmas Eve (and our special celebration) and Christmas Day. I have found the perfect gift for you, and look forward to your unwrapping it._

_Gin, you are the most important thing in the world for me, too. Never forget that I love you, and I plan on being with you forever._

_I'm thinking of you, in red velvet and black lace. . . and it's not just you that's getting hot in here._

_Yours, always, forever, and twice as long as that,_

_Harry, your husband (which I'm very proud to be able to say)_

oooooooooo

Ginny finally made it home from her meeting, hoping to find Harry under the tree as she'd hinted at. The house wasn't cold, nor dark, but it definitely had that air of being uninhabited. Ginny didn't know when she'd first realized it, but she could tell very quickly whether her Harry was there or not. She supposed it came from having spent the past how-many-years? watching him. Looking around, she saw the many decorations he'd been able to put up, and thanked him in her mind for taking the initiative. She knew she could have started it herself any number of times during the past month. But there was just something about starting to decorate that was uniquely _Harry_. He had such an appreciation for something so normal, and she never really felt herself get in the mood for Christmas until he had taken those first steps. Now that he'd done the lion's share of it, she could really enjoy it, and add those whimsical touches that Harry seemed to love so much.

She found the note he'd left her on the coffee table, read it (smiling at the velvet and lace description—little did he know that he'd guessed her choice for this year), and blessed her mother for dragging Harry over to the Burrow.

Checking the clock quickly, she decided that it was early enough to make some plans. She hurried into the bedroom, packed a quick overnight bag for herself and her husband, and ran back to the fireplace. Thankfully it had just been a meeting, rather than a practice, so she was still dressed nicely. Even so, she stopped, turned around, and ran back to the bedroom. Changing her workaday shirt for a dark green, and slightly-too-small, cashmere turtleneck, she admired herself in the mirror, knowing that Harry would appreciate what the clothing did for her figure. Swapping out her normal pearl earrings for Christmas ones that jingled when she shook her head, she decided that she was appropriately clad for spending the evening with her husband and their family.

oooooooooo

"Auntie Ginny! Auntie Ginny!" came the cries from both Rose and Victoire as she appeared from the Floo. The other children noticed her arrival too, but were otherwise occupied.

"Rosie! How are you? And Vicky!" Ginny called, as both girls rushed her and jumped into her arms. She managed to catch a glimpse of Ron's face as she said this, and smirked at him for the sour expression that appeared like magic.

"Happy, Auntie Ginny! Uncle Harry's here too!" Rose answered. It was a rather rare event for both of them to be at the Burrow together, and both their nieces were excited. They loved their Aunt and Uncle, and were old enough to notice that Harry and Ginny were much more fun to be around when they were together.

The next thing she knew, two strong arms were being wrapped around her waist, and warms lips were caressing her ear, causing some rather strong shivers to go down her back, and other not-so-obvious reactions.

"I'm so glad you came, Gin. But I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself with you looking so darned sexy in that top."

Ginny leaned back into Harry's arms, feeling at home for the first time that day. Rose and Victoire climbed down and ran back to snitch biscuit dough from the bowl that Molly was mixing.

Ron's face turned even more sour. "Okay, I'll just finish this discussion by myself, shall I?"

Ginny looked at her brother quizzically. "What's your problem now, Ron?"

"Nothing," he said, petulantly. "It's just that I haven't had time to talk to Harry in forever, so we were catching up. I was just telling him how the Cannons were doing this year, but now you're here, and he's going to be all over you all night. Thanks for stealing my best friend!"

Ginny's temper instantly shot up, and she went for her wand, barely noticing when Harry intercepted her hand. "Yeah? Well, I haven't seen my husband for more than a quick shag in over three months, Ronald. So you can just take your little pity-party and go tell it to someone who might sympathize! He might be your best friend, but he's the love of my life!"

The silence was broken by applause—George had heard the whole thing, and felt that such a masterful performance needed recognition. Ginny turned, slightly taken aback by the ferocity of her reaction, to see him standing there in the doorway, smiling widely. Then she looked past him, and noticed what had to be every resident and guest of the Burrow present, staring at her in awe. She blushed, and turned to Harry and buried her face in his chest.

Ron stood, shocked, for a moment, then came over and put his hand on his sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I didn't really mean it like that. I know you and Harry don't have a lot of time together, and I don't _really_ begrudge you this time—I just sometimes get a little envious of his time too. He really is my best mate, and I do miss him. But that's no reason for me to take it out on you."

Ginny turned and threw her arms around her brother. Sensing that this was a rather more personal moment than the previous one, Molly chivvied everyone back into the kitchen. Harry stood there and watched as the two siblings embraced. As he did so, Hermione came over to stand beside him, and he put his arm around her.

"Much more than a teaspoon by now, I'd say," he whispered to her.

She smiled up at Harry and nodded. "Yes, he's really growing up, isn't he? I think being a father has done more than anything else to speed up the process."

"Well, whatever it is, I'm glad to see it."

Hermione took the opportunity to ask Harry, "Are you two really okay? That seemed like rather a strong reaction to Ronald's normal prattishness."

Harry heaved a sigh. "Yeah, we're okay. We have been rather too busy over the past long while, and that's been stressful. But I love her more each day, and someday, hopefully soon, we'll be able to make some changes to our hectic lives."

Anyone else would have taken that statement at face value, but Hermione had almost as many years of Harry-watching under her belt as Ginny did, and she detected a hidden glee in Harry's voice.

"Just what do you have planned, Harry?" she asked, giving him a gimlet stare.

"Nothing, Hermione," he said in a would-be casual tone. She wasn't fooled, but the look on his face meant that no further information would be forthcoming. She resolved to keep an eye on the Potters, and see if she could detect any changes in the upcoming year.

Ginny and Ron had finished their whispered conversation by this time, and the two couples withdrew to the kitchen, where they were besieged by the children and cajoled into helping to decorate Christmas biscuits. The evening passed in a very merry fashion, and when it was time to go to bed, and Harry was preparing to say his goodbyes, Ginny drew him aside and whispered in his ear.

"Harry, dear, I have a small Christmas request tonight." After she said this, she gently licked his earlobe.

Harry's brain immediately shut down, and his mouth fell open. "Um. . . uh. . . yes," he finally stammered out.

Ginny giggled. "Don't you even want to know what it is?"

"No, anything that gets you to do that to me is yours for the asking."

"Okay, then. Come upstairs to my old bedroom in about ten minutes, and you'll be able to fulfill a schoolgirl fantasy for me." She kissed him then, but when he went to pull her closer and turn the kiss into something more passionate, she pulled away. "Remember, ten minutes. . ." And saying this, she slipped out of his arms, and skipped up the stairs, taking the small bag she'd packed with her.

Harry instantly looked at his wristwatch, determined to not be even one minute late. If it was really one of her schoolgirl fantasies, and it involved him and her in her old bedroom, it was exceedingly likely that it was one of his schoolboy fantasies too, and he wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

Ron saw Harry sitting on the couch. . . well, more like poised on the edge of the couch, coiled like a spring set to go off in 7 minutes, 37 seconds.

"Um, Harry? I thought you were going home. . ."

"What? Oh, Ron. Um, no, it looks like we'll be spending the night tonight. Ginny's up in her old room and I'm supposed to join her in 6 minutes and 53 seconds."

Ron started to ask what was going on, then happened to remember the time when Hermione and he had been visiting her parents, and he had innocently walked into Hermione's old room, only to see his wife dressed in what must have been her uniform from fifth year, and lying on her bed, licking her lips and staring seductively at him. His brain automatically tried to envision Harry and Ginny in the same type of situation, but fortunately he was able to drag it onto a complete different track. "That's nice, I have to go check on Rose and Hugo bye!" The last word was somewhat indistinguishable, as Ron was already three stairs up and accelerating. Harry didn't really notice.

When Harry's watch told him he had twenty seconds left, he stood up—well, really he leaped to his feet and sprinted to the stairs. By the time the second hand indicated it had been exactly ten minutes, he had his hand on the doorknob, already turning.

Entering the room, he blinked to adjust to the lowered lighting, and looked for his wife. She was sitting at her desk, innocently looking at a book. But she must have found her third-year uniform, and he could tell, quite definitely, that certain parts of it hadn't been able to be buttoned all the way. And, from the looks of things, in third year she hadn't yet succumbed to the necessity of wearing certain important undergarments. She artfully noticed him then, and leaned over to put her book away, showing him that certain other articles of clothing, which were normally the rule rather than the exception, were missing too.

Harry waved his hand behind him, casting locking and silencing charms, took two steps towards his wife, and spent the next three hours fulfilling at least three different school-time fantasies, and one that they hadn't even thought of ahead-of-time.


	4. When Life Gives You Ice, Make Ice Cream

**Christmas Gifts, Chapter 4, When Life Gives You Ice, Make Ice Cream**

**Author's Notes:** Written for the "Gift of the Magi, Harry Potter-style" challenge in LiveJournal's chest_monsters community. I didn't win anything, but I had fun writing it.

I'd love to have some constructive criticism on this if you have the time. If not, then at least let me know if you like it.

oooooooooo

After the normal argument about where the Potters would wake up Christmas morning, this time conducted by Floo, as both Harry and Ginny were blessed to be home together Christmas Eve day, Ginny and Harry relaxed on the sofa in the glow of the lights on the tree. The day had been wonderful, finishing up the decorating, cooking, talking, and, on three separate occasions, looking for clothing which had been rather carelessly flung around whichever room they had been in when the exchanged looks had grown too heated.

Ginny had refused to tell Harry what she had done special for the Christmas decorating this year, and he was trying his best to figure out what it might be, interrupted occasionally by sly questions about what Harry's gift to Ginny would be.

"Is it the garden gnome on top of the tree?" he asked.

"No—we do that every year, kind of a Weasley family tradition," Ginny responded, cuddling closer into Harry's side.

"And I assume that George got you the gnome again this year?"

"Of course, after all, the Twins are the ones that started it. Is it a new broom?"

"Ah yes, I remember that Christmas well. And no, it's not." Harry sank down a bit more into the sofa, and started running his fingers up and down Ginny's arm.

They sat in silence for a bit longer; Ginny closed her eyes, enjoying the light tickling sensation on her arm, and letting desire for her husband grow slowly inside of her.

"Does it have something to do with the garland on the fireplace?" Harry finally asked.

It took a moment for Ginny to realize he'd actually asked a question—the sound of his voice rumbling in her ear was just too pleasant. . .

"No, it's just a normal garland that, I might add, _you_ put up. Is it clothes?"

"Oh. Um, can I get a hint? And, no. I told you—you'll just have to wait until Christmas. Besides, what are you giving me?"

"Unh-uh, Potter. If you're not telling me what my gift is, then you'll just have to wait too." She looked up at him through her eyelashes, then decided to try a stronger tactic. She backed away from him a bit, ignoring his frown of disapproval, then got up, turned, and sat down straddling his lap, bringing her whole self much closer to him, and giving her the opportunity to apply more physical encouragement to her verbal pleas. Her voice took on a much lower, more seductive tone, as she leaned forward, pressing herself against his chest. "But I'm sure there would be some very, very good rewards if you wanted to tell me now. . ." and she licked his earlobe again.

Harry just about came undone. His mind went blank, and all he could think about was how close her body was to his, and how much he loved her, and how much he wanted to get even closer. But, some small, very small, exceedingly tiny rational part of his brain interrupted his libido. "Oh, Gin," he groaned, "I want to tell you, I really, really want to, but I can't—I can't tell you until tomorrow. Oh Merlin, don't stop!"

Ginny stopped.

Then she decided that she was enjoying the moment, and his arms around her, far and away too much to deny herself pleasure just because her husband was as stubborn as she was, and melted even closer to him.

oooooooooo

A not insignificant time later, as the loving couple lay on the couch together, wrapped in the soft, fleece blanket that they kept there for just such times, and nothing else, Harry noticed something on the mantel.

"Ginny?" he asked softly.

"Mmmhmm?" she answered, slightly perturbed at being bothered when she was so warm and comfortable.

"Gin? Do you want to tell me why there's a little statue of Hagrid on the mantel, looking at me like I owe him something?"

Harry's voice finally penetrated the fog in Ginny's mind, and she started giggling. "Noticed, did you? Took you long enough. . ."

"Is that a . . . a nutcracker?"

"Yeah. I decided that our normal nutcrackers were looking rather boring this year, so I made them look like our favorite teachers from school. Hagrid's not alone, Harry."

Sure enough, as Harry inspected the row of nutcrackers, he could see one that was unmistakeably McGongagall--complete with stern face and a tartan muffler. Next to her was one that was significantly shorter, and had distinctly goblin-esque features, obviously Flitwick. Harry chuckled. "Ah, Gin, that's what's been missing from the decorations. I never would have thought to do something like that--it's perfect! Although the idea of Hagrid cracking nuts is slightly. . . um. . . disturbing."

Ginny looked quizzically at her husband, then caught on to his implied joke and laughed loudly, making Harry join in.

"Oh, Harry, this has been one of the best days that I can remember, just spending it here with you. In fact, there's only one thing that'd make it better."

"Really? And what would that be, Mrs. Potter? You ready for another go-around? Perhaps with chocolate sauce?" Harry asked, with a lascivious gleam in his eye.

Ginny blinked and then blushed as she imagined his suggestion. It was almost enough to take her mind off what she wanted to ask. Shaking her head, she said, "No, although maybe we could explore that option tonight? But what I was really talking about was the gift you're going to give me. If I could just know what it is, I think I'd be completely happy--no niggling concerns about appropriateness tomorrow or whether I'm going to be too embarrassed."

Harry just shook his head. "Give it up, Gin, I'm not going to tell you, so stop asking. It's the most perfect gift you will ever have gotten, and you're just going to love me for it. And I'm not going to ruin the surprise by telling you. Although, if you wanted to give me a hint as to what you're giving me, I won't make you wait as long tomorrow for yours. . ."

He could tell she was tempted, but her stubbornness in refusing to give hints ranked up there with his, and both of them remained mute on the subject, although very quickly their mouths were engaged in other things, which occupied them delightfully for the rest of the evening, and far into the night.

oooooooooo

Ginny had always woken early on Christmas morning. It was one of her favorite days of the year. First, of course, it had been her favorite because she always got wonderful gifts from her family. Then, as she had grown older, the enjoyment had come from being able to give gifts to others. For awhile it was made even better because she had an excuse to give Harry something from her heart, even if it was never recognized as such. But she couldn't ever remember a Christmas that had been so anticipated in her life. The past year had been so hard for both her and Harry, with their demanding schedules and barely being able to see each other, the prospect of spending a _second_ day together, after Christmas Eve day, was indescribably wonderful.

Harry had always been awoken early on Christmas morning. It had turned into one of his favorite days of the year. Originally, of course, it hadn't been such--his Aunt had make him wake up so he could make breakfast for the Dursleys before they went and opened their gifts and he listened to them from where he was secluded in his cupboard. After he started at Hogwarts he had seen that it could be a wonderful holiday--he still had that very first Weasley sweater, knitted for him by a woman who didn't even really know him. Of course, Ron took care of the waking-up-Harry duties during those years. Now, with Ginny in his life, she had taken over that most delightful of duties, and as Harry rose through layers of sleep up toward wakefulness, he thanked whatever cosmic force had allowed them to fall in love with each other. The way that Ginny chose to wake Harry up on Christmas morning had varied each year, ranging from sweet and caring, to deliciously naughty. Harry could tell how excited Ginny was this morning, because she wasn't wasting any time in soft caresses--rather her hands and mouth were urgently attacking him, insisting on a passionate response from him that left them both sweaty, disheveled, and grinning like fools.

"Good morning, Gin," Harry breathed. "Thanks for the wake-up call. A little bit anxious about presents this morning, are we?"

Ginny smirked at him, refused to answer, and got out of the bed, walking towards the bathroom and adding a seductive sway into the normal rhythm of her walk. Harry took the time to admire in great detail, the beautiful sight of his unclothed wife, then jumped out of bed and joined her in the shower.

Surprising them both, the shower was just a shower, albeit with lots of help in soaping up, but both participants were looking forward to giving their presents to the other.

They dried off rapidly, raced each other downstairs (Ginny winning by the simple expedient of vaulting down the last flight of stairs, impressing Harry to no end), and grabbed the muffins and hot chocolate that they had set up the night before.

Once settled on the sofa, they sipped their drinks and simultaneously said, "You first!"

Harry smiled and said, "Okay, I get to give you yours first. That is what you meant, right?" Ginny shot him a disgusted glare, but excitement overtook her face as Harry handed her the small wrapped box that she'd been watching ever since it had appeared under the tree a few days previously.

"Should I save the wrapping paper?" she asked, and Harry just about inhaled his chocolate. For as long as Harry had known her, she had never once opened a gift with enough patience to save any of the wrapping. He had decided, long ago, that the wrapping was just viewed as another obstacle to happiness, kind of like she viewed Bludgers, Keepers, and opposing Chasers. This helped save him money, as he didn't have to buy any of the expensive, animated paper that was so the rage.

His lack of answer was completely ignored as Ginny ripped open the paper and scrabbled at the box, finally loosening the sticking charm enough to pull out the contents.

Silence.

Ginny looked up, with a puzzled look on her face. "Um, Harry? Why are you giving me your Auror badge?"

Harry smiled down at his beautiful wife. "What? Don't you like it? I worked hard to be able to give that to you, and now I find that you don't even appreciate--Ow! Stopping hitting me! Okay, okay!" He grabbed her hands and pulled her into his lap.

"Ginny, you know I love you, right?" She nodded, still somewhat mystified by his gift and trying to divine where he was going with the conversation.

"Well, I haven't really had the best year. Don't get me wrong!" he said quickly, hoping to head off any misunderstandings. "I love being married to you, and the time we've spent together has been the best of my life. But that's just it--we don't get to spend enough time together. You have such a demanding training and playing schedule, and I'm always off doing Auror things whenever you have time off. I just don't think it's very fair to us to never be together."

He peered into Ginny's eyes and saw a mixture of sadness and an emotion he couldn't identify. But he thought he could guess why she was sad. "Ginny, don't worry about your schedule--I know how much you love Quidditch--no, don't interrupt, I need to get this said, okay?" She nodded, and he went on. "Anyway, you're a brilliant Quidditch player, and I love watching you play it, you're so exciting to watch, especially in your skin-tight Quidditch leathers,--" He stopped to give her a quick kiss and a slow caress, bringing out goosebumps on her arms and a warmth in her belly. "So, I decided that something needed to change--I wasn't getting to spend enough time watching you play, and traveling with you to games, and being with you when you had time off."

Harry took a deep breath, knowing that this was the moment of truth. "So, I quit."

Silence.

Then. . . "What! You quit your job?! _This_ was the big surprise? You quit so that you could come with me while I played Quidditch!?"

Harry was worried--he hadn't expected quite this level of. . . wait. . . was she. . . laughing? Of all the possible reactions, Harry had never expected Ginny to break out in full-bodied laughter.

"Um, Gin? Are you. . . are you okay?" He didn't discount the possibility that the shock might have unhinged her slightly. She continued laughing, and Harry became so worried that he wasn't even able to enjoy the secondary vibrations caused by her laughter, like he normally did. But she seemed to be calming down slightly, so maybe she was really okay.

"Gin? Are you mad?"

Still chuckling a bit, she shook her head.

Finally, she calmed down enough to be able to speak. "Oh, Harry, we're quite the pair." Before he could ask for clarification, she continued, "I'm not saying anything else until you open your present, okay?"

Harry stared at his quite-possibly-unbalanced wife, then shrugged. He'd never yet been able to get her to do something she didn't want to do (although it had come close with the whole eloping question), and since it wouldn't take too long, he figured he could do as she requested.

He leaned over awkwardly, reaching around Ginny to pick up the long, surprisingly light package that had lain under the tree for the last few days. Ginny refused to leave his lap, so he laid it on the sofa next to them and started to unwrap it one-handed. Eventually he was able to get the paper off (charmed to show Beaters using vampire bats to swat blood-sucking Bludgers at the Cannons players) and reveal. . . Ginny's Holyhead Harpies broom case. Harry looked up at Ginny in puzzlement, but she just motioned to him to open the case. Doing so, he found her broom inside.

"Um, Gin? I already have a broom. . . and yours doesn't like me, remember?"

Ginny snickered, remembering his one abortive attempt at riding her temperamental Swiftfire, which had ended in his being dumped unceremoniously into the lake, then turned to face him fully.

"Harry, love, I know you already have a great broom. But when I said we're quite the pair, I meant it. I'm not really giving you my broom in exactly the same way you're not really giving me your Auror badge."

Harry thought about that, and started to smile. "You mean . . .?"

"Yup. I've quit the Harpies. I got tired of never being able to be home when you were--I love playing Quidditch, don't get me wrong, but you're so much more important to me than that! I've had a good number of years, and winning that award this winter seemed like a great note to go out on. The Daily Prophet will have the story tomorrow, and everyone will know. But what they won't know is that I quit because I can't stand to be apart so much from you. You are my everything, and I wanted so much to be able to support you in your chosen career. Being a Quidditch player meant that I couldn't do that. And Harry? When it comes to a choice between playing Quidditch, and showing you just how much I love and support you, there's no contest."

Harry found himself rather teary-eyed at Ginny's declarations. She had told him, many, many times over the years how much she loved him. But there was always that little doubt, that little voice that sounded suspiciously like Uncle Vernon, that whispered, "No-one will ever love a freak like you." But this--this was real, this was his Ginny, and this was real love.

Harry pulled Ginny closer to him, buried his head in her shoulder, and cried. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and stroked his arms, and whispered her love to him, over and over, until finally she felt his tears slow down, and a smile appear on his face. She leaned back a bit and kissed him, and they snuggled back together on the couch.

"We _are_ quite the pair, aren't we?" he said, finally, and she just smiled and nodded.

After a moment of contemplation, Harry spoke. "Ginny, I really meant it when I quit the Aurors. Yes, I found quite a bit of enjoyment in capturing Dark Wizards, but I don't want to find fulfillment away from you. We don't have to worry about money, you know that, but maybe sometime we can try to find something that we can work on together, you know? I don't think I can sit around all the time, but I am _not_ willing to be so separated from you any more. Does that. . . does that sound okay to you?"

It was Ginny's turn to get teary-eyed. "Oh, Harry. I can't think of anything I'd rather do than spend my days working beside you on something worthwhile. That seems to me to be one of the better definitions of heaven that I've heard. Thank you for everything, love."

Harry turned to her and said, sincerity overflowing his eyes, "No, Gin. Thank _you_ for loving a poor little orphan boy, and teaching him what love really is."

They kissed then, a kiss full of love, and hope, and promises for the future. As they settled back onto the couch to contemplate what had become the best Christmas in the world, just one thought appeared to mar the peace.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Gin?"

"What are we going to tell the family?"

---The End---


End file.
